


Slapshot to the Heart

by Slumber



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Sports, American Hockey League, F/M, Hockey, M/M, Not Werewolves, Pack Dynamics, Slow Build, Sports Metaphors, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/pseuds/Slumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott gets called up to play for the Chicago Wolves in the AHL, and Stiles is happy for him, but the team has issues, not least of which is its grumpy captain, Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slapshot to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> So the lockout happened, and I was going stir-crazy. Then I went to a Wolves game (it is an actual team with actual "the strength of the wolf lies in its pack" slogans, guys), and I couldn't resist. Thanks to [Sas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/theaeblackthorn) and [Caroline](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ccharlotte) for pre-reading, and to [Curtis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/musikurt) also for telling me to write it. They are to blame, not me. >.>
> 
> The title started out as a joke, but now I can't of anything else, so, uh, sorry about that.

The first time Stiles meets Derek Hale, he second-guesses dropping Scott off at the man's house. Derek opens the door like he's expecting missionaries to sell him on a religion he's got no interest in, and swear to god Stiles almost-- _almost_ \-- shrinks back at the full power of the glower he's given. It doesn't help that Derek looks like he'd just come out of Fight Club-- bruise in the corner of his eye, a nasty cut on his upper lip, a missing tooth. (He doesn't look _quite_ like Brad Pitt but holy shit, that jaw though.)

Scott, of course, acts like this is par for the course. Which, okay, bruises aside, it kind of is, but Stiles has been around other hockey players before and they're normally not this unfriendly. But that's Scott for you, guileless and earnest, and he holds out a hand after he's introduced himself. 

To Stiles's everlasting surprise, Derek shakes it perfunctorily. Then he shoots Stiles a quick glance and goes, "Who's he? Team didn't say anything about there being two of you."

"Oh, no, this is Stiles, he's my best friend. He just picked me up from the airport and dropped me off here," Scott says brightly, before adding, "He goes to Northwestern," like it's a point of pride. 

"Just the driver and I guess eventual tour guide," Stiles laughs, patting Scott on the back. "Text me when you're free and my roommates and I will take you out, okay?"

Scott promises he will and Derek offers to pick up one of his bags. Stiles doesn't quite know why but he thinks this is a good reason to address Derek. 

"You take care of him for me, alright, big guy?"

Derek narrows his eyes at him and Stiles almost backtracks right away, but then he just grunts and closes the door behind him.

Stiles thinks that means yes?

He makes his way back to his Jeep, not sure what to make of Scott's new living arrangements. It's not like he wouldn't have offered his own apartment-- he _did_ , in fact. It was just a three-bedroom in Evanston and technically speaking, they already had a person to a room, but hey, he's a good guy, he could've added a second bed to his room, and Danny and Allison wouldn't have minded. (They said they didn't mind, anyway.) Scott nearly took him on that offer too, especially since they don't know yet how long his stint in the A would be, but the team is big on integrating new players, apparently, especially if they're rookies or call-ups or new trades. They almost had someone from the team pick Scott up from the airport too, but Stiles felt he had to put his foot down somewhere. 

So Scott is finally in the same 25-mile radius as he is, but he's got to live with the team captain until his call-up is a little bit more permanent. Stiles hopes it is, and he knows Scott's thinking the same thing-- look, not to rag on Michigan or anything but why would he want to go back to Kalamazoo if he's already in Chicago, right?

It's one step closer to Scott's dreams, and that's what's important. Stiles is going to do his supportive best friend thing, try not to antagonize anybody on the team too much, try not to let _Scott_ antagonize anybody on the team too much-- for all that Scott's the obviously nicer of the duo, there are just some things he refuses to back down on, which is great for him but not for when he's putting his foot in his mouth and all-- and they should be fine.

Oh, and Scott has to play well too. That part helps.

Scott sends Stiles a text message. _Team thing tonight, but will let you know next time I'm free._

_Sounds good, bud. LMK anytime._

* * *

Anytime, it turns out, means _never_. It's been a full week since Scott arrived at Chicago and Stiles has barely seen him. Part of it is that the team heads to a road trip almost immediately after Scott arrives, and all Stiles gets are text message snippets of life on the road.

The team doesn't stray too far for very long-- they never really do-- but when they _are_ back there's always a practice here or a team meeting there, or workout sessions and video reviews and Stiles _gets_ it, Scott's new and wants to fit in, and the team's really big on building team chemistry or whatever, but their players have to have lives outside the arena, don't they? So after one more _Sorry, we're supposed to get together after practice_ Stiles wrinkles his nose and pulls up his laptop. 

"Anybody up for a short road trip?" he asks.

Danny, who's known him a while, already knows he's planning something and that whatever it is, he's not going to be a part of it. "This thing's due tomorrow," he lies easily, and fine, Stiles lets that one slide. 

Allison, however, despite living with him for a year and change now, has not yet wised up to his ways. "Sure, where are we going?"

Stiles checks the screen again. "Either Rosemont or Hoffman Estates-- which one's closer, can you check?"

* * *

Stiles has to hand it to Allison-- she looks too innocent to be up to mischief, but when they pull up to the Triphahn Community Center, she barely bats an eyelash before she asks him about his plan.

"Plan?"

"That security guard doesn't look very friendly," she says. "We're at your friend's practice, aren't we? And we had to check the Allstate Arena first before we went here, so you probably weren't invited."

Stiles regards her with newfound awe. "I feel like this is my cue to laugh sinisterly."

"Oh, Stiles," Allison says, patting his arm, "save that for when we're inside. Follow me."

Stiles does, and he doesn't know if Allison has any real plans when she walks up to the front door, leaning against the wall and huddling closer as though to keep herself warm in the nippy November weather ( _Don't even think about it_ , the security guard communicates to them from behind the glass door, his narrowed eyes and crossed arms leaving no room for protest), but a plan materializes regardless when a Porsche pulls up and a beautiful girl with strawberry blonde curls walks up. 

"In case you wanted autographs, the fans usually congregate out back," she tells them, her gaze sweeping over Stiles dismissively but staying on Allison's a tad longer. "Why do you look familiar?"

"I'm not actually a fan," Allison says. "I-- my boyfriend told me to come meet him after practice, except the guard thinks--"

"Boyfriend?"

Stiles catches Allison's panicked look a split second before he jumps in. "Scott McCall? He's the call-up." 

Strawberry Blonde gives him a cool look. "And you are?"

"His best friend. I introduced them."

Strawberry Blonde looks dubious, so Allison smiles brightly and goes, "Just-- could you let him know we're out here waiting, when practice is over?"

It's enough for Strawberry Blonde. She returns Allison's smile and shakes her head. "Don't worry about it, Carl is just a little bit of a grumpy man when it's cold," she says, before hooking her arm around Allison's elbow and leading them both inside. 

Carl side-eyes Stiles as he walks past, but he says nothing.

* * *

Strawberry Blonde, whose name turns out to be Lydia Martin, is the only other person in the arena with them. Stiles notices the thick textbook peeking out from her large Dolce & Gabbana purse, but it stays in her bag as she picks a high spot by center ice and starts chatting with the two of them. Stiles helps supply Allison's dating history with Scott, because she doesn't actually know much about him other than the fact that he's Stiles's best friend, while Allison tries to ask Lydia more questions to deflect the attention from her fake boyfriend.

"Mine's number thirty-seven, Jackson Whittemore," Lydia says. "First round draft pick back in 2010. He's just waiting to be called up any day now. It would help if Coach let him play center-- it's his natural position, you know."

"Scott's a center too," Stiles supplies, eyes tracking the players on the ice. "What's he playing now?"

"Right wing," Lydia tells him, wrinkling her nose as she utters the words.

"It's been a bit of an adjustment, huh?" Stiles asks, because Allison's attention is now almost completely on the ice. 

"Would be better if his center isn't a complete dick," Lydia mutters, and just as Stiles is about to ask who the center is, the drills come to a halt. Stiles leans closer to see better-- Jackson, who's been passing a puck back and forth with his linemates, is yelling at the guy he missed the puck from. Stiles can't hear exactly what's being said but the rest of the team's stopped, hanging back to let the two of them duke it out. Even the coach is staying by the bench. Dimly, Stiles hears Lydia mutter "Goddammit, not _again_ " before Jackson and the other guy simultaneously drop their gloves and take their helmets off.

Even from where he's sitting, even with the five seconds he's seen him, Stiles recognizes the captain of the team, and if he thought he looked scary when he dropped Scott off at his house, Derek Hale looks absolutely _furious_ now. 

"Oh my god, are they--" Allison asks, the question dying on her lips as the two players go at each other. 

"They're just letting off steam, that's all," Lydia says, even though she doesn't sound like she believes it all that much. Stiles hardly hears her-- Jackson only gets a punch in before Derek's gotten the best of him, pinning him to the ice before someone forcibly pulls him away.

" _Stop it_!" Scott says, voice echoing loud and clear in the empty arena, and of course it's Scott. He's gripping Derek's arm and holding him back like he's not afraid of Derek turning on him, but Derek just shakes him off and continues to glare at Jackson. Stiles doesn't hear what he tells him, but the coach blows his whistle and tells them to go back to the drills.

* * *

When Lydia leads them to the locker rooms after practice she walks past the half-naked players like it's nothing. Stiles gets the feeling it's happened a lot of times before too, but then they do a double take and cover their privates when they see Stiles and Allison trailing after her.

"McCall, I got your girlfriend for you!" Lydia announces. Jackson walks up to her and she places a hand on his chest, murmuring a low "We'll talk later" that has Jackson slinking back to his stall.

"Girlfriend?" Scott asks, poking his head out of one of the shower stalls. 

"Surprise, it's Allison!" Stiles says, nudging Allison forward with a smile that he hopes says _just go along with me this one time, Scott, and I'll ask for nothing else_. It is a code born of years of friendship with Scott, a secret telepathic connection that only two people who've grown up with each other can share, but it's Lydia who narrows her eyes and crosses her arms like she can finally see through Stiles's lies.

Scott-- well. Scott doesn't quite play along, but he doesn't _not_ , either. Instead he smiles his goofy, crooked smile, echoes "Allison?" like he's practicing how the name rolls off his tongue and liking it. 

Allison smiles sweetly back, giggles a little, which is shocking to Stiles because what the hell, he's never actually heard Allison _giggle_ , before she tucks an imaginary lock of hair behind her ears. "Um, hi. I'll-- we'll wait for you outside, okay?"

"Okay," Scott agrees happily, and Stiles thinks he might've stayed there forever if Allison didn't tug Stiles back out of the locker room. 

"See ya later, buddy," Stiles says, resisting the urge to snap his fingers in front of Scott because he's _still_ smiling that goofy smile, and it's starting to worry Stiles. He turns around and nearly runs into a solidly naked chest. "Whoa!" he maybe shrieks-- at least it sounds a little more high-pitched than he would've liked, and catches Derek Hale's glare. The bruises from the last time Stiles saw him have gone, but of course there's a fresh bruise on his cheek now courtesy of Jackson. Stiles jerks back, mutters a quick apology, then scuttles back to where Allison is waiting for him.

* * *

"It was the first thing that came to my mind!" Allison is explaining, her cheeks slightly flushed and her laugh just this side of breathless. Scott's laughing along like he hasn't since Mindy Huang in third grade, so Stiles knows he's doomed. 

"It's okay," Scott says. "It wasn't the worst idea in the world. I mean! I'm not saying-- not that I _am_ saying--"

"I know," Allison tells him, and then, because Allison is sometimes more self-aware than Scott is, she turns to Stiles. "So now you've wrangled Scott away from his team, what are you guys planning to do?"

Call of Duty. Halo. NHL 13. Maybe even a little bit of Minecraft thrown in, because why the hell not? "Uh…" Stiles is suddenly turning a blank. "We could just hang out?"

"I'm okay with that," Scott says agreeably. "Back at yours? I don't know if Derek would want--"

"Of course back at ours," Stiles says, just as Allison snorts.

"Danny's probably got that new boy over now that he's gotten us out of the house for a few hours. We do _not_ want to go back there. How much of Chicago have you seen, Scott?" Scott's hapless shrug seems to decide it for Allison. She grins at Stiles and tosses him the keys to his Jeep. "You promised me a road trip, Stilinski."

* * *

So, okay, Stiles and Scott Hour has a special guest appearance courtesy of the lovely Allison Argent. She and Scott are really hitting it off; Stiles doesn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce as much. Hell, Scott is a good-looking guy, and Allison's a pretty girl-- _Stiles_ should have thought about it from the start truth be told. It's not like he's ever seen Allison as anything other than a friend. Reminds him too much of Scott, which, again, he should have known. 

Allison's the most native Chicagoan between the three of them, which isn't really saying much. She moved to the suburbs sometime in high school because her dad got a job, so she's taking it upon herself to show Stiles and Scott the sights.

"I can't believe you've never been to see The Bean," she's scolding Stiles, who side-eyes her.

"It's a _metallic bean_ in the middle of the park!" Stiles protests, gesturing to the ridiculous monument, which is currently crowded by about two dozen tourists trying to get their best angles on the bean's reflective surface. (There is none.) "It doesn't make sense!"

"I'll give you that," Allison says after giving the bean careful consideration. "Where next?"

It's while enjoying a couple of hot cocoas at Navy Pier that the conversation steers away from the city and Allison to Scott and his team. 

"They've been really good to me," Scott says. "I mean Derek's a little bit-- he's a little too serious, but the rest are actually pretty nice. Isaac, our goalie? He's quiet and everything but once you get him talking he's really passionate about the rescues he fosters. Boyd's secretly funny, and he's kind of taken me under his wing a little bit. Says I remind him of himself when he was younger. And Erica's great. She doesn't put up with anybody's crap. My first game in Charlotte someone checked her from the back-- and you know she's _fast_ , hardly anyone manages to hit her-- so she just skated circles around them before she assisted on a goal!"

Stiles can't help grinning. "They sound great, Scott," he says. "So the team gets along?"

Scott's face darkens a second. "Mostly," he says.

"Yeah?" Stiles cocks his head. "Has it got to do with that Whittemore dude?"

At this, Scott outright scowls. "He and Derek don't like each other, I guess," he says.

"He seems like a jerk," Stiles agrees.

"He thinks he's better than the rest of us," Scott sighs. "He and Derek were supposed to play on the same line like his sister did with him, but--"

"The Hales were _incredible_ together. It's terrible what happened to Laura," Allison says. At Stiles's raised eyebrow she shrugs, averts her gaze. "I follow all the teams in the city."

"Yeah, Derek's kind of--" Scott shakes his head. "The further apart he and Jackson are, the better."

"So how is it different in the AHL from the ECHL?" Allison asks after a lull falls over them. Scott perks up visibly as he starts talking, and before they know it, it's almost dinner time. Danny texts Stiles to see if they're up for eating out with his not-boyfriend and Stiles, Allison and Scott all agree that's a good idea. They drive over to a small pizzeria back in Evanston and by the end of the night, when Stiles and Allison drop Scott home, they've agreed to come to his next home game.

"Sleep tight, bud!" Stiles says, leaning over just to catch Scott mouthing _I'll text you_ to Allison. He's pleased, because he's not above dangling a carrot to get to hang out with Scott again. And they had fun, didn't they? "We had fun, didn't we?" he asks Allison, watching Scott walk up to the house.

"Of course!" she says, smiling her dimpled smile back at him.

Stiles almost ignores the fact that he catches Derek glaring at him from the living room window. Almost.

* * *

The game is kind of a disaster.

Scott gets them tickets for Danny and his not-boyfriend too, only Danny's not-boyfriend is a different dude from the one they had dinner with and Danny's tight-lipped about the whole thing. Allison shares telepathic "don't ask" looks with Stiles, who shrugs and figures they're there to enjoy the game anyway.

Which they kind of don't.

It's a home game against the IceHogs, who are less than two hours up the road and are the team's worst rivals. The thing with rivalries is that it's perfect if both teams are evenly matched, and Stiles gets the feeling it _used_ to be, but he can't help cringing because the Hogs are basically just kicking the Wolves's collective asses. 

It starts the moment Scott gets caught in the middle of a line change and skates back to the offensive zone with Derek and Jackson. Both of the Hogs' blueliners are on Derek, and Jackson's too far away but Scott's wide open. _"Pass!"_ Stiles hears himself yelling, but Derek just tries to muscle past both opponents and bank a weak shot that the goalie easily blocks, and suddenly there's an odd-man rush the other way and Scott, who's been on the ice for more than his regular shift, is scrambling to skate the entire length of the ice back to the defensive zone.

It doesn't work. The Hogs do a quick one-two pass-- Stiles isn't sure what happens but it looks like Boyd and Isaac _both_ decide to cover the passer, leaving a side of the net wide open for an easy goal. The crowd groans and the Hogs are up 1-0. 

A one-goal lead isn't insurmountable, but that seems to have knocked the life out of the Wolves anyway. Derek gets kicked out of more than half the face-offs he's supposed to take, Coach Finstock switches his lines up like he's playing with slot machines, and everybody just seems to be playing with an edge that the Hogs take full delight in exploiting. At one point Scott is out on a line with Jackson, who thinks it's the perfect time to pick a fight with a Hog much bigger than him. Jackson gets knocked out almost immediately and Scott's covering his head with both arms as a different Hog goes after him. From beside him, Stiles hears Allison gasp and he feels his own gut twist sickeningly, but suddenly Derek's grabbing the Hog from behind and throwing him to the ground, getting a few good punches in before the officials are escorting him out for a game misconduct, because Derek was nowhere near the ice when the fight started. Scott and Jackson and two other Hogs are shoved into the penalty box for five minutes, Jackson getting an extra two minutes for cross-checking.

The Hogs score another goal during that penalty kill, and they get another on the board before the first period is over.

The game doesn't pick up any better after that. Short their captain, Jackson ends up centering the first line, Scott the second. But Erica's gotten angrier and the Hogs are starting to pick on Scott a bit more, checking him harder and teaming up on him whenever they can. Erica mouths off at an official when she gets called for hooking so they add two more minutes to her for unsportsmanlike conduct. Scott and Jackson take turns on the kill but the Hogs score two against them easily. Boyd's slapshot late in the third gives them a point against the Hogs, but by the end of the game they've lost 6-1.

"So this has been fun," Danny observes, eyeing Stiles and Allison warily. "You two okay?"

"Scott said we can come meet him in the lockers after," Allison says, glancing at Stiles. "Do you think we should?"

What's the worst that can happen? Stiles shrugs. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

* * *

It isn't fine. 

The staff lets them through because they find Lydia just as she's about to go in, and she signals that it's okay, so they follow her through the halls and corridors that make up the underbelly of the arena. Stiles gets the feeling Lydia's maybe more than a player's girlfriend, the way everyone seems to defer to her for one reason or another, and from the way her mouth is curled and the way her heels clack-clack against the floor with furious purpose he thinks maybe she's not someone anybody wants on their bad side either.

She's mad about Jackson, that much is clear, but whatever she has to tell him has to wait, because as it turns out, she's not the only one who is.

They turn a corner and it's clear, even though the locker looks like it's still at the end of the hall, that people are yelling. Stiles shares a quick look with Allison, but Lydia doesn't seem deterred so they keep walking. When Lydia finally stops they're just outside the door, and it's because Isaac greets them there. He looks uncomfortable as he shakes his head, whispering a low, "Not a good idea, guys." 

Stiles has the horrible feeling of intruding in a private moment, and he kind of wants to inch away but he cannot. He's played in a team before, back in high school, and he knows emotions can run high the more competitive and invested a team is, but he doesn't think he's ever seen a scene like the one before him. Derek has Jackson by the collar, and Jackson's no lightweight but he's literally a foot off the ground, pinned to the wall as Derek's snarling at him. Jackson's cursing him out, struggling in Derek's grip but showing no signs of backing down.

"We're a pack; we work as a _team_ ," Derek's shouting. "We do what works best for the _pack_ , and that goes for all of us, including you. _Especially_ you. Just because you think you're god's gift to hockey doesn't excuse--"

"Because _you're_ so much better than me?" Jackson asks, jutting his chin out so he's looking down at Derek. "What the fuck was that game misconduct for? You think that _helped_?"

" _No one_ was helping," Derek snaps, his eyes sweeping over everyone. "The reason everyone thinks they can push all of us around is because we _let them_. If you don't stand up for your own then who will, huh? _Who?_ "

Nobody answers him, and the room is quiet for an awkward few minutes before Scott finally walks up, his hand on Derek's shoulder. 

"Captain--" he says. "I think you should let Jackson down now."

Derek doesn't shrug his hand away, nor does he acknowledge him, but he drops Jackson unceremoniously to the ground before he stalks away, towards what looks like the showers, and slams the door behind him.

Stiles watches as Scott extends his hand to help Jackson up, only to have Jackson glare at him in return.

"You'll be back to the shitty town you came from, in the shitty team you were playing for, in less than a week," Jackson tells him. "So what makes you think anybody should be listening to _you_?"

"I was just--"

Jackson shoves him as he stomps away, to the other side of where Derek went. There is a beat and then Lydia's walking after him, an unimpressed _"Jackson"_ hissing past her lips.

" _So_ ," Stiles says, and the rest of the team turn to him as though just realizing he's there, "anybody else wanna grab a drink with us?"

**Author's Note:**

> The original plan after I wrote my NaNo was to write something that I knew almost everything about-- Chicago, hockey, and Teen Wolf made the perfect storm of sense to me. The team was going to be the Blackhawks, but I really couldn't ignore the fact that the Wolves existed, so even though they're affiliates with the Canucks, which as a Blackhawks fan I am _legally obligated_ to hate as a team (we sign an oath and everything you guys, that rivalry is srs bsns ~~okay not really but ykwim~~ ), I thought it was best to go with the Wolves instead. I unfortunately don't know as much about minor league hockey, so if there are canonical errors I am sorry!
> 
> Female players aren't allowed in any of the leagues mentioned here, but since Jeff Davis wanted to write a non-heteronormative world and I've taken professional hockey playing as the lycanthropy equivalent in this universe, I thought it wouldn't be a great big leap to make Erica and Laura players either.
> 
> Team rosters are usually made up of closer to twenty people, but obviously, we don't have that many TW characters. Just pretend everyone else is Greenberg. XD 
> 
>  
> 
> [I like your shoelaces.](http://slumber-at.tumblr.com)


End file.
